


And The Walls Came Tumbling Down

by draca (wyvernwolf)



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwolf/pseuds/draca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A building falls down with Gene, Sam and Ray still inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And The Walls Came Tumbling Down

Sam scrambled over a pile of rubble, ignoring the cuts he was getting from the sharp edges. He reached the remains of two walls leaning drunkenly against one another and quickly huddled in the small shelter, desperately trying to gather his fractured thoughts and make sense of the chaos surrounding him. Everything was swirling sickeningly around him and his eyes refused to cooperate and focus properly. He vaguely registered distant voices shouting at him, voices that merged easily with a beeping sound that was steadily getting louder, but he easily ignored them. He had more important things to do. He didn't know why he felt such urgency to find a safe place to hide but he just instinctively knew that he needed to.

Forcing himself to concentrate and ignore the way the way the room seemed to be spinning with him as the focus point, Sam squinted at his surroundings in an attempt to figure out where he was. What little he could make out through his disorientation didn’t make any sense. It looked like he was in a demolition zone, if the piles of rubble and half collapsed walls were anything to go by. Everything was covered in a white layer of plaster dust and there were faint rays of light through the cracks in the ceiling. Try as he might, Sam couldn’t recall what had happened to bring him here and any further attempts to remember were just making his head hurt worse. The pain wasn’t helped by the way the room was doing crazy loops around him and he found himself swallowing hard to stop himself from throwing up.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Sam scrunched into a ball and tried to take shallow breaths. His body was insisting it wanted to curl up into a ball and die and he was unpleasantly reminded of the time his Mum had taken him to Blackpool. He'd pestered her to take him on the Big Dipper and when she'd finally given in, he'd been ecstatic and practically jumped in when their turn had come.

Sam would never forget how terrified he'd been during the ride and how he'd spent the rest of the day in their small B&B room throwing up, his Mum a constant soothing presence by his side. He’d never forgotten how the world had continued rocking even after he'd got out of the car onto solid ground or the queasiness he’d felt.

It was the exact same thing he was experiencing now with the added bonus that he was hearing noises that couldn’t possibly be there.

The beeping grew louder until Sam couldn’t anything but the rhythmic sound. He covered his ears, desperately trying to block it out but it didn’t work. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a flash of red, and the unreasoning urge to hide reared up again.

Standing was completely out of the question since he couldn't seem to do it without listing to one side and he was finding it very hard to figure out which was the right way up, so instead he played it safe and stuck to crawling, keeping a wary eye out as he went. Even then he still felt decidedly unsteady and had to stop frequently to rest his aching head against the cold cement.

Desperately ignoring the very real threat that he'd be revisiting his breakfast, Sam continued moving until his hands closed around what felt like a table leg. A little bit more careful exploration confirmed that the table was mostly intact and the surrounding walls had fallen in such a way that there was a small cubbyhole beneath it that could possibly fit a body, if said body scrunched up a bit. Sighing with relief, he worked his way into the questionable safety of the small space and curled as much of himself in as possible, until only the bottom of his legs were sticking out. As he tried to get comfortable and ignore the nausea making his stomach churn unpleasantly, something trickled down the left side of his head and he absently swiped at it. A quick glance at his fingers revealed a darkish smear that under different circumstance would have worried him since he was pretty certain it was blood, but right then, Sam was more concerned with making sure he was safely hidden.

To Sam’s relief, the beeping was fading and all he could hear were the creaks and groans as the building shifted around him.

He’d just found a position that seemed to help lessen the various aches and pains torturing him when a bellow sounded in the silence.

"Tyler! Get your skinny ar-, bloody he-"

The thunder as a wall collapsed nearby drowned out any other words and even knowing that he was reasonably safe under the table, Sam still instinctively slammed his eyes shut and curled up further, throwing his arms over his head.

When silence fell again, Sam uncurled himself only to let out a groan when the movement increased the pain in his head to monumental proportions. Clenching his teeth in pain, he curled into a tighter ball, wishing he'd never got out of bed that morning and that he could remember what the hell was going on. The last thing he was positive about was arguing with Gene as they'd walked into a building, and then there was a loud rumbling, a sharp pain in the side of his head and the next thing he knew, he was here with the urgent need to hide underneath something solid.

“Sam!”

He jerked reflexively when he heard his name being shouted again and howled in pain when his head impacted the underside of the table. Then things went blissfully blank as he succumbed to the lure of the beckoning darkness.

**

"Guv!” Ray shouted in alarm. “You all right?"

"Am _I_ all right? Am I _all right_? Part of a sodding wall just fell on me, you div. Of course I'm not bloody all right."

Gene glared at Ray from his place on the ground before beginning the laborious task of heaving himself up. Ignoring Ray's outstretched hand, Gene grimaced when his back very audibly cracked as he straightened and glared at the bits of plaster desecrating his coat. Muttering under his breath, he dusted himself off before turning the glare on a still hovering Ray.

“I told you to grab him, Carling!”

“I tried, Guv, but he's a slippery bugger.”

“Just our bloody luck,” Gene grumbled. “This shitty excuse for a building's been standing for god knows how bloody long but as soon as we step in, it bloody well collapses. With us still in it. And now my loony DI's decided he wants to play hide and go bloody seek!” Gene's rant ended in a shout that bounced off the unsteady looking walls surrounding them

“Er, Guv,” Ray said as his eyes darted nervously around, “Might be a good idea not to be doing too much shouting. Don't want the rest of it to come down.”

“I am not shouting, Sergeant. If I was shouting, you'd damn well know it! I am merely expressing my disgust at the situation in a very forceful manner. Now shut your bleeding gob and help me shift some of this shite so I can get to Tyler.”

They worked in silence, trying to clear enough space to reach the spot Sam had crawled into. Their work was slow as they frequently froze each time a creak or groan from the surrounding walls made itself known.

By the time they had uncovered a small passage, they were both hot, sweaty and in extremely foul moods.

“I think I can see him, Guv!” Ray said excitedly as he peered through the small clearing they'd made. “Boss!” He yelled. “Can you hear me?”

**

Sam resurfaced to the feeling that someone had been using his head as a football and the sound of Ray Carling's voice. Neither of which he particularly enjoyed.

“Boss!”

Sam winced. “Shut up,” he moaned quietly. The sickening sensation of being at sea in a small boat during a very bad storm hadn't gone away and all he wanted was to sink back into the comforting oblivion of unconsciousness, but that wouldn't be possible as long as Ray kept shouting at him.

Anger flared in Sam when Ray started shouting for him again and for reason unknown to him, he decided he didn't want to be found so tried to wedge himself further under the table. He froze though when he accidentally kicked something and whatever it was gave under his foot. There was a few seconds silence broken only by his panting breaths, but just as he was relaxing, a grating noise made itself known which quickly grew louder, accompanied by the creaking and cracking of plaster.

“Oh, shit,” Sam muttered as a few bits of plaster drifted down. He coughed as dust filled the air and moaned again when the abrupt movement aggravated his already queasy stomach.

On the other side, Gene and Ray shot panicked looks at each other as the sound of things shifting and sliding filled the air. Dust billowed around them and without further hesitation they dived for cover.

From their relatively safe position under a huge slab of concrete, Ray yelled out, “Stop moving, you moron,” and then let out a yelp when Gene, who was squashed in beside him, smacked him on the back of his head.

“Ow, Guv! What the hell was that for?”

“Keep your mouth shut or you'll bring the rest of the building down on us,” Gene snapped as he peered through the dust and tried to figure out the easiest way to get to his batty DI.

“And you,” he shouted at Sam. “Get your skinny arse out of there. Don't make me come in there and get you!”

Hearing Gene's threat, Sam tried to crawl further under the table, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Go 'way,” he mumbled as he tried to will the pain in his head away.

“Right. Get to it then, Raymondo. I'll wait here and keep an eye out,” Gene ordered and gestured at the small hole they'd made.

“Me?” Ray swallowed as he looked at the narrow opening. “But, Guv... it's so small... ”

“Oh for... I'm surrounded by idiots and cowards,” grumbled Gene as he took off his coat and suit jacket. “Stay here,” he said as he went down on his hands and knees.

“You better be hurt, Tyler, or so help me when I get my hands on you I'm going to wring that scrawny neck of yours,” Gene muttered, trying to wriggle through the small opening without taking too much skin off.

**

The sound of barely muffled swearing and someone clambering clumsily closer caught Sam's wavering attention and a hint of panic curled in his stomach.

“Leave me alone,” he tried to shout but to his embarrassment it came out in a croak instead.

“Shut your gob, Tyler.” Gene's voice was closer now and Sam lifted his head and blinked in confusion when Gene’s head popped into view. He was about to tell him to go away when a blur of red caught his attention. Squinting and blinking rapidly to try and focus his eyes, his heartbeat rocketed up when he caught sight of a little girl in a red dress standing just behind Gene. Unlike everything else, Sam could see her clearly, every little detail in sharp focus and when she smiled at him, her teeth gleamed white in the dusty room. She made as if to step closer and terror surged through Sam. Panicking, he scrambled to retreat further under the table, typing to pull his feet in as he grabbed hold of a shattered brick for good measure.

“No. No, no nooo! 'M not going anywhere with you,” Sam said, his voice muffled, unsure who exactly he was speaking to. The little girl just waved at him, a cheerful smile on her face, before Sam’s view of her was blocked as Gene worked his way in further until he was level with Sam’s curled up legs.

“Tyler, you are a right pain in my arse,” Gene said as he took in how Sam was edging further away and the desperate way he was clutching the brick in his hand. His brow furrowed in concern when he caught a glimpse of blood staining Sam's hair and the side of his face. In the dim light, Sam looked sweaty and very pale.

“Feeling all right, Sam?” He asked quietly and stretched out a hand to touch Sam’s head. When his hand made contact, Sam hissed and jerked away, dropping the brick and reaching up an unsteady hand to bat Gene away.

“Ow! Don’t!”

Gene snatched his hand away and watched worriedly as Sam's already frighteningly pale face took on a green tinge.

“Sam?”

Sam groaned and slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don't feel so good, Gene,” he mumbled through his fingers.

Hurriedly, Gene backed away.

“You sick up on me and you'll be sorry, Tyler,” he warned even as he searched his pockets for a handkerchief.

Gene watched helplessly as Sam curled in on himself again and visibly fought the urge to throw up. Only when it looked like the threat had passed and Sam was lying limp and panting did Gene move.

“Righty-o then. Come on, Sammy-boy,” Gene said as he tried to figure out a way to grab a hold of Sam without hurting him. “Let's get you out of here.”

“No! Leave me alone. I have to stay here or she’ll get me!” Sam tried to yell as he attempted to escape from Gene’s hands but Gene was having none of that and grabbed his legs near the knees.

“Christ on a bike! For the love of... Tyler! No one’s after you, much less some girl. Get a hold on yourself, man. You're embarrassing yourself, not to mention me. Now come here.” The here was punctuated by a tug on Sam's legs.

“Lemme go!” Sam kicked out and Gene jerked his head away as one booted foot came dangerously close.

Ducking another kick, he let out a frustrated growl. “That's it. No more Mister Nice Gene.”

Moving quickly, he again grabbed Sam's legs, this time keeping a firm grip around his ankles. When Sam tried to kick out again, Gene gave the legs he was holding a hard yank and smiled grimly when Sam groaned in reaction.

“Try and kick me again, Marjorie and I'll tie you up in so many knots a boyscout will have trouble getting you lose. Now keep bloody still.”

At the threat, Sam went limp and satisfied that Sam wouldn't try to kick him again, Gene started backing out, heaving a slightly squirming Sam along behind him.

**

By sheer dint of will accompanied by a lot of creative cursing, Gene managed to manoeuvre his feebly protesting DI out from under his hiding place, over the broken pieces of building littering the place and into the shattered remains of the other room.

His earlier threat seemed to have worn out, or Sam had forgotten it, as the smaller man started trying to kick him again. Somehow, he managed to free one of his legs and immediately lashed out, catching Gene in the shin.

“Bloody hell, Tyler! You stop that right this instance or I'll kick your arse so hard you'll be able to say hello to my foot when it comes out your mouth!”

Swearing and rubbing his ankle, Gene half carried, half dragged, his wriggling bundle over to Ray and dropped Sam into the shocked man's lap.

“Here, do something with him,” he said before stomping off to one corner and lighting a cigarette.

His own cigarette hanging from his mouth, Ray looked horrified as Sam landed in an ungainly lump in his lap.

“What am I supposed to do with him?” he squawked.

“I don't know. Something, anything. Pat him on the head, tie him up. I don't care. Just do something!”

Awkwardly and with the care one took when handling a potentially lethal package, Ray shifted Sam around until his head was resting on Ray's thigh.

“Er, Boss?” He asked as he tapped Sam's cheek. “You all right?”

“Wha' happened?” Sam mumbled into Ray's thigh. He swiped at his head, effectively smearing more blood over his face and making himself look even more ghoulish.

When Ray saw what he was doing, he grabbed hold of Sam's hands, forcing them down. “Here, none of that, you div. You're only making it worse.”

“Is she gone?” Sam asked as he rolled his head and squinted up at Ray.

“Who? Cartwright?”

Sam scowled at Ray. “No! Not Annie.” he said. “You know who I’m talking about. The girl. The one in the red dress. She had a clown.”

Pulling a face, Ray looked up at Gene and twirled a finger next to his head before looking back down at Sam. “There is no girl, boss. Or clown. Although I wouldn’t mind if one of those plonks were here. Specially that blonde one with the big...”

“Carling! Spare us from your daydreams and stick to the story!” Gene bit out.

“Right. Sorry, Guv. ‘S just us three stuck here, boss. You got clobbered on the head when the building collapsed. It must’ve rattled what little marbles you had left cause you panicked and ran off.”

A snort came from Gene.

“At the rate you're going, Tyler, there'll be nowt left in that noggin of yours... not that there was much in there to bloody start with,” Gene added with a smirk as he continued poking around the rubble surrounding them trying to find a way out.

Sam just ignored him as he tried to make himself comfortable in Ray's lap. He felt somewhat safer here with both Gene and Ray with him.

“Chris was still outside and the Guv yelled at him to get help. That was 'bout half an hour ago.”

“And the both of you'd better be praying very hard that divhead gets us out quicksmart or I'm going to be using someone's head as a battering ram and smashing our way out. It’s near dinnertime and I could just about murder a curry.”

**

Ray let out a hiss when Sam's pointy shoulder made contact with his groin. “Ow! Dammit, Boss! Get off!” He shoved a bit too hard and cringed when Sam rolled off him and landed with a thud and gasp on the hard ground.

“Carling!” Gene barked out from his own seat amidst the rubble. “What the hell are you doing? I told you to look after him!”

“Sorry, Guv, but he kept trying to... ” Ray blushed, making vague gestures at his crotch.

Gene heaved a sigh and dropped down next to his pitifully moaning deputy. “Right then, give him over,” he said and pulled a squirming Sam into his own lap.

“Make it stop moving,” Sam moaned, his voice hitching and breaking.

“Oh, shut it, Marjorie. You sound worse than a cow giving birth.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably, his body stiff and tense and Gene let out a strangled grunt when a sharp elbow was shoved into his midsection. He resolutely didn't give in to the urge to throttle his ailing DI and instead placed a hand on Sam's neck and started rubbing, which proved to be a strategic move when Sam went strangely soft and pliant and practically melted into him.

“Hurts, Gene,” Sam whispered, trying to curl himself into Gene's lap and nearly kneeing Gene in the family jewels. “S'not real but it hurts.”

Any annoyance Gene felt rapidly changed into concern when he placed a hand on Sam's flushed face and frowned at the heat radiating from it. Gently, he brushed his fingers through the damp hair at Sam's temple and made a face at the blood that smeared his fingers.

“Help'll be here soon, Sam,” Gene said, looking over to exchange a worried look with Ray. “You just stay awake.” He brushed his fingers against Sam's cheek again trying to wipe away the streaks of dirt.

Sam let out a sigh at the feel of cool fingers on his overheating skin. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to get closer and whimpered when the fingers moved away.

“What am I going to do with you, you daft sod,” Gene said gruffly.

Sam bit his lip as he was shifted around some more before he heard Gene speak again. “Right. Open up, Gladys, and get some of this down you.” Then his head was tipped back and the hard curved edge of something cold was pressed against his lips. Unwillingly, he opened his mouth and nearly choked when the scotch burned a trail down his throat and hit his already churning stomach.

His eyes tearing up and coughing so hard his entire body shook, Sam barely managed to shove himself off Gene before he heaved out what little he had in his stomach. By the time he was done, he crumpled onto the floor, feeling like he'd been run over by a bus and then to add to his overall feeling of misery, he was again assaulted by the loud beeping sound and what he could swear was the sound of his Mum calling to him.

“Mum?” he mumbled as he cranked open his eyes to look for her. It was a move that he instantly regretted when the room spun crazily around him and he felt the nausea rise again. He slammed his eyes shut and strained to hear the words his Mum was saying above the increasingly louder beeping. But it was futile. The beeping just grew until it drowned everything else out. Confused and scared, Sam tried to call for help but his mouth refused to cooperate.

Despair creeping up on him, Sam could feel the tears trickling from the corners of his eyes when he was suddenly lifted with surprising gentleness and cradled in someone's arms. Someone was softly carding a hand through his hair and the gruff voice crooning his name easily drowned out the now piercing beeping. With each shift of that wonderful hand through his hair, the fear and tension bled out, leaving him feeling as exhausted as if he’d run a hundred miles. His last thought as he let himself escape into oblivion was to wonder when he'd started to equate the smell of cigarettes and booze with safety and security.

**

Consciousness returned painfully slowly. Everything was fuzzy and Sam tensed up, until the familiar sounds and smells of a hospital penetrated the fog surrounding his mind. Dimly, he could feel the pinch in his arm from what felt like a needle but it was to the feathery feel of something lightly touching his forehead that had him very cautiously opening his eyes.

The light blinded him for a minute and all he could make out was a dark blurry form hovering just above him. Squinting, Sam blinked a number of times before everything slowly focussed and he could see that it was Gene standing next to his bed.

“‘Ene?” he mumbled through his dry mouth. He tried to swallow and winced when it felt like a dozen razorblades were tearing into his throat.

“Back with us then, Sleeping Beauty?”

Never had a voice been more welcome than Gene’s gruff tones.

“‘Ene? Wha’ ‘appened?” he croaked, only to get a straw shoved into his mouth.

“Shut it and drink.”

The order was made abruptly and Sam didn’t even consider ignoring it. He sucked greedily, letting the cool water flow down his sore throat. When the straw was taken away, he made a noise of complaint and tried to grab it back but his flailing arm was easily evaded.

A large hand gently grabbed his and tucked it back under the sheets before Gene’s face appeared back in his view. Gene frowned down at him and now that Sam was able to pay a bit more attention, he could see that Gene appeared almost as bad as he felt, his face covered with what looked like small cuts and looking tired and worn out.

The frown intensified before it turned upward into a reluctant grin, accompanied by an exasperated headshake and a finger jabbed into his face. Sam couldn’t help a small smile at the familiar gesture.

“I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. You, Sam bloody Tyler, are a big bastard pain in my arse. Now go back to sleep. I’m not telling you what happened just to have you fall asleep and forget. _Again_.”

Sam frowned. He wasn’t tired and he wanted to know what had happened. He was about to argue when a yawn broke free and his body emphatically told him he was tired. The pull of sleep was like a siren song that Sam couldn’t resist and any intent he’d had to stay awake vanished as his eyelids drooped like they'd been weighted down by bricks.

He barely twitched at the sounds of a chair being pulled up, a body settling heavily into it, and then the sound of a lighter being flicked opened. It was the acrid smell of burning tobacco that managed to rouse him, but even as he was formulating the words to scold Gene, with an ease that had been missing since that day he'd woken up in the wrong year, he was falling.

Falling deep into dreams of little dirty-blonde girls in bright red dresses being buried under mounds of rubble whilst he rode a fairground ride, yelling with fear and joy as he was tumbled up and down and round and round. Through it all, the familiar smell of cigarettes accompanied him, wrapping around him like a comfortable cloak.  
-Fin-


End file.
